


A Pair of Socks Is All You Gave To Me (And I Wore Those Socks Forever)

by pizzatime



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, MJ gets a mention, Ned gets a mention, Other, Tony Stark Has A Heart, this is really rough and more of a brain dump than anything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 02:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12949185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizzatime/pseuds/pizzatime
Summary: Tony Stark doesn’t know what to get Peter Parker for Christmas. He consults Bruce Banner.





	A Pair of Socks Is All You Gave To Me (And I Wore Those Socks Forever)

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a song by Tom Rosenthal called 'Christmas Quiet'. Make what you will of this bunch of words.

Tony Stark had never wanted kids. Looking after a multinational, conglomerate of a company was difficult enough. Looking after _himself_ was difficult enough. He’d only _just_ scraped his way into adulthood successfully, and there’d been plenty of colossal fuck ups along the way. He didn’t trust himself with the task of raising a child – didn’t trust himself to not do as his own father had done and create another colossal fuck up.

Okay. He’s doing that thing again – that thing that Bruce says is detrimental to his mental health. Not giving himself enough credit. Discounting all the positives about himself. _Yada, yada, yada_. Long story short, he’d never wanted, nor needed, a child. So it’s baffling, that somewhere along the way, he’d found himself with one.

Okay, so maybe the spiderling wasn’t his ‘ _child_ ’. But he was _a_ child (as much as said child might deny the fact) and he was _his_ responsibility. And wasn’t that what having kids was all about? Steering them in the right direction? Keeping an eye on them? Offering advice on how to kick bad-guy-ass? And save the world? And taking them on their first trip to Germany to fight against a seventy-plus super soldier and his team of powered individuals? Yeah, somehow, he’d landed himself with a freaking _kid._ A teenager, no less.

And as much as it pains him to admit it, he’s pretty fond of the kid. He’s a good one (he thinks – he doesn’t have much experience or knowledge to go off here), but Peter is also now another thing on the long list of things that keep him up at night, something else – _someone_ else - to worry about constantly.

He finds himself caring increasingly more and more as he hears reports via Happy. Finds it endearing the way Peter relays messages about his Spanish test results and his Decathlon training. He’s mildly interested when he hears about a TV show Peter’s binged over the weekend when he should have been studying. He’s absolutely livid (and granted, slightly amused) when he hears about a prank that wound up with the teen stranded with no clothes on the school oval, landing him in detention for a week (and how on earth a _super powered_ individual ends up in that situation is _beyond_ Tony, but if anyone’s gonna do it, it’s Peter Flippin’ Parker). He feels pride, and joy and a whole lot of other emotions that make him kinda squeamish, and it all just feels so… _parent-y. **Shudder**_. There’s plenty of frustration, confusion and impatience, too, but he feels that towards the general human population, so that doesn’t feel particularly parent-ish. Long story short, he feels like they’ve bonded enough that they’re on some sort of level – some sort of level that requires Christmas presents. But not a card – he’s never bought into that unnecessary, overpriced sentimental, commercial shit before and he doesn’t plan on starting now. Besides, what the heck would he write?

The only gifts Tony’s father ever gave him were bottles of Scotch (and there it is again, thinking about his own father-son relationship as he thinks about Peter… _yikes_ ) but somehow, he doesn’t think that would be appropriate. And he doesn’t think it would go in his favour of strengthening the already teetering relationship he has with Peter’s aunt (contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t like to be thought of as an asshole, and he gets the impression that May Parker thinks he is just the absolute _worst._ He doesn’t blame her).

It would be easier if he didn’t give a crap about the kid. He’s got plenty of SI merchandise that he gives _actual_ high-performance interns. Mugs, pens, notebooks. Heck, the better ones of the bunch get _giftcards._ But the kid, even though he’s under the guise of being an intern, deserves better – he’s put that kid through a _lot._ Pepper didn’t speak to him for a long, _long_ time after she found out that he’d roped a 15 year old into fighting against Cap during the whole Sokovia Accords fiasco. He doesn’t blame her – he did technically break homeland security laws, smuggling a teen out on a private jet. Doesn’t matter at all that Peter was practically bouncing with childish excitement the entire time. The kid had done good, sure, but it hadn’t been his battle to fight. And seeing him on the tarmac afterwards, barely moving, clutching at his chest, disoriented… he’d known then he’d made a colossal mistake. Things could have been a lot worse. A _lot_.

So, the kid deserves _something_ that properly expresses Tony’s gratitude. Because he is grateful. And he’s proud. And he wants to let the kid _know_ that, even if it means having a gift delivered because he can’t imagine facing the teen to actually hand a gift over. He’ll have Happy do it. Or maybe he’ll send one of his suits. Maybe a courier. Whichever makes it looks like he cares the least. (God, he’s an asshole.)

But still, the problem remains. What do you give a kid for Christmas, when you want to show your appreciation, but don’t want to show that you actually give a shit because your life is largely determined by an ego?

His first thought is a car. It takes him approximately two seconds to realise that’s a ridiculous idea. Pepper likes giving people houseplants, but he can’t imagine the teen being all that thrilled about keeping a fiddle leaf fig alive. Actually, he _can_  imagine that, but that’s beside the point. Pepper also gifts private dinners at exquisite restaurants – somehow that doesn’t seem right either. What do kids even like? Puppies? Playstations? Starkpads? Who’s he kidding, everybody wants a Starkpad.

He’s spinning on his chair at his workstation, deep in thought as Friday announces that Bruce is about to arrive in the workshop. Sure enough, moments later, the scientist shuffles in, a blanket around his shoulders and a haggard expression about his features. He’s still recovering from his latest… episode. He untangles a hand from his blankets to give Tony a tiny wave before heading over to plonk down at his own workstation, pushing his glasses up on his nose before beginning to click away on whatever it is he’s working on. Bruce is a sentimental guy- a freakin’ adorable softie when he’s not all mean, green and hulking. So Tony scoots his way over in his roll-y chair until he’s sitting opposite the physicist, elbows on his workbench and chin in his hands. To his credit, Bruce continues on as if Tony wasn’t even in the room, and whether it’s an act or not, Tony can’t tell. Regardless, he can tell the man wants to be left alone. There’s dark bags under his eyes and a hunched nature about his shoulders. But listening to others was never Tony’s strong suit.

“Other than being a totally acceptable shade of human, you look _terrible.”_ Compliments weren’t his strong suit, either.

Bruce looks up, owlish eyes blinking behind his glasses, sending Tony a look that roughly translates into _fuckyouverymuch._ Fair enough, too. Bruce’s gaze flicks back to his screen and his clicking resumes.

“Are you going to continue to insult me or is there actually something I can help you with?” _clickclickclick._

That’s one of the best things about Bruce; he was never one for small talk. Didn’t say anything that wasn’t genuine or necessary.

“I had a few more insults ready to go, but we can skip straight over them, if you’d like.” _God_ , he’s generous.

Bruce clicks away a few more times in response before pausing, hunching over the desk to jot something down. Tony takes his continued silence as his cue to start talking.

“So, whilst you were on your green vacay, I somehow, sort of, became responsible for a new kid on the block. A super powered kid. Insanely strong, into the same geeky science as you and-“

“You’re talking about Spider-man?” Bruce looks up, a brow raised. “I caught up on everything I missed. That includes the fact that you got a _child_ to fight alongside you in Germany.”

“Yeah, not my best decision. But we needed the muscle – I mean, the other side had _Cap_. And _Barnes_. This evened out the playing field a little.”

Bruce shrugs, “Not your best decision.” He agrees, but there’s no malice or judgement in his voice. Bruce settles back into his chair, giving Tony more attention now, looking over expectantly as he waited for Tony to explain.

“So, basically, I, for once in my life, have someone that I _know,_ not just some fanatic, looking up to me. And I don’t even feel like a self-centred asshole saying that; the fanboy vibe is _intense._ Anyway, it’s just- We’ve actually been through a lot. And I think it’s high time I-“

“Dear lord,” Bruce sounds tired, “Please don’t tell me you’re planning on adopting this child.”

“What? No. _No._ Not in a million years. Okay, that sounds harsh, but _no._ Kid’s got a great Aunt. Like an aunt who’s great, not a _great_ aunt. In fact, we should set you two up, but that’s an idea for another time. Right now, I’m burdened with the mystery of what to get a 15 year old mutate for Christmas. All I know so far is what _not_ to get – Scotch. I can thank dear old dad and a history of alcohol dependency for that lesson.”

Bruce nods, “Good call. And let me guess, you’ve already exhausted other options like private jets and luxury sports cars?”

Tony tilts his head, “Why, you think either are a good idea?”

“Not in the slightest. But I don’t know why you’re asking me for advice, Tony. I literally know _no_ kids. I barely know any _adults._ I don’t do much gift giving.”  

“Yeah, but you’re a good guy. You’re also the only other person in the room. I could ask Vision, but that’ll give me some longwinded, statistical answer analysing the pros and cons of gift giving. And _Friday_ lacks any speck of creativity.”

“ _I resent that, sir.”_ The AI responds, flat as ever.

“First of all, you’re also a ‘good’ guy. Give yourself some credit. Second, you’re overthinking this. I doubt the kid’s expecting a gift in the first place. Something over the top will just overwhelm him and make things uncomfortable. Personally, I’ve always been happiest to receive necessities. Socks. Underwear. Shirts. The basics.”

“But that’s so _boring._ ”

Bruce shrugs, turning back to his work, “You asked for my opinion; that’s it. Alternatively, you could upgrade the suit somehow – I’m guessing you made that?”

Tony nods before shaking his head, “Sneaky li’l shit unlocked the suit’s full capabilities ahead of schedule months ago. But I’m sure I could think of something…” He spins a few circles in his chair, thinking.

“I’m telling you,” Bruce begins, clicking away at his desktop again. “Necessities. Can’t go wrong. Throw in some chocolate, too. Keep it simple. Gifts are overrated, anyway.”

And Tony’s beginning to think that maybe Vision or _Friday_ would have come up with better ideas. But something appeals about the simplicity of Bruce’s suggestion – because whilst him and Peter are - dare he say – _bonding_ and he doesn’t find the kid a total, snarky little annoying shit like he was sure he would, he doesn’t want to go all out and get overly sentimental and make things _weird_. Bruce pulls the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders, squinting and focussing on his screen and Tony knows that’s all he’s going to get out of the tired scientist for today, so he, too, returns to his work.

___

It’s Christmas morning, the heater’s not working (as per usual) and Peter’s just had croissants with May. There’s a slurry of snow blurring out the window and there’s stupid carols playing off his shitty phone and later they’ll meet up with Ned’s family for Christmas lunch. It’s calm and quiet, and sure, there’s one person missing and that kind of adds a bitter, empty note to the whole thing, but it’s Christmas and there’s gifts to open and food to eat and _Love Actually_ to watch and things are pretty okay. The intercom buzzes, announcing that there’s a package to be collected downstairs.

“Want me to-?” Aunt May begins but Peter’s already hopping up and heading towards the door, tossing a poorly wrapped present (A travel coffee mug that MJ had suggested) towards his aunt, “I got it! Open that. I’ll be back.”

When he reaches the bottom floor, he signs for a large package with no sender. It’s been wrapped just about as badly as his own gifts and features garish, festive paper. Returning to the apartment, he kicks the door closed and joins May on the floor in front of the tree where she raises a brow, “Who’s that from?”

“No clue.” Peter shrugs, “Wanna open it together?”

May just ruffles his hair and begins to tear at the paper. Peter does the same.

“A note!” May announces, a piece of torn paper sliding loose from under the wrapping, “ _To a great intern, happy holidays, stay out of trouble. You did good this year.”_

Peter makes grabby hands towards the note and May hands it over, it’s signed by none other than Tony Stark and Peter’s kind of gobsmacked that he’s receiving a Christmas gift from _Iron Man. **What the heck?**_  Opening the present reveals an assortment of socks and t-shirts, all featuring science puns that have him (and May, once he explains the obscure nerd references) laughing. To top it all off, chocolate bars keep spilling out as he digs deeper into the contents of the box and he’s _touched_.   
“ _This_ doesn’t make up for _half_ the crap that Tony Stark has put you through.” May clarifies, already gnawing on chocolate. Peter can tell he’s won her over, if even just a little bit.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave any suggestions/prompts for fics if you'd like me to write anything in particular!


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